Oh the suffering of confinement.
With little sympathy for the soul;
One might seek new alignment,
Be it pure as light or dark as coal.
What is this treachery of which I speak?
A question most admirably posed,
But only answered with a shriek.
The truth too great – If only I were predisposed.
Oh, the torture of everlasting pain,
the headache of time too slow,
To know nothing of future gain;
This is the path that I must follow…
For future endeavors, I must persist!
Ah, forget it, class dismissed.